


Rising from the ashes

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14249109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: Sometimes loved ones suffer more than the sufferers





	Rising from the ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badly_knitted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Death by fire](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/369165) by Badly_knitted. 



> Written for juliet316’s prompt 'Torchwood, Jack, he'd never been completely incinerated before' as a remix for badly_knitted's original fill at fic_promptly

Ianto had been quietly working away in the hub when the police report came through. A massive fire had broken out in a disused factory. It wouldn't have normally even caught his eye, it was only the address that sent up red flags. That was where Jack had been headed earlier that morning to investigate some weird readings. Ianto had even recalled Jack's not quite mocking laughter when he'd asked if he needed a hand, and politely declined, saying he could handle it. Now he was wishing he'd been firmer in his insistence, having just tuned into a police line and hearing that the place was well ablaze and that three separate fire crews were on scene.

Ianto drove out there immediately, all the while trying to call Jack's phone. A dozen times he must have dialled but all he was getting was a well behaved voice-mail service. It made him worried. If Jack wasn't answering there was a good chance he was still at the factory, and, in all likelihood, in very real trouble.

What confronted him when he arrived he was even worse than he'd imagined. Police had set up a cordoned area around the site, while emergency services ran around with hoses and heavy equipment. Huge clouds of thick black smoke issued from the building and flames could be seen pouring high out of some of the windows.

Ianto didn't bother assessing the danger, his head simply told him that Jack was in there, trapped or hurt or worse, and that he had to find him and get him out. He'd ducked easily under the police tape and past several emergency crew before a burly fireman grabbed him forcefully by the arm, jolting him to a halt.

'Oi! Are you mad? You can't go in there mate.'

Ianto almost couldn't believe it. Did someone think they were actually going to stop him?

'But my friend, he's in there!' Ianto lost all sense of dignified and calm authoritative response. His tone was bordering on panic.

'No one's going in there. I've got two crews of twelve men I won't even send in. It's way too dangerous.'

As if to prove his point, one of the large windows a few floors up exploded in a shower of glass, raining down on the two men, as flame and smoke poured out. They both crouched instinctively, protecting their faces from the falling shards.

'Come on,' the fireman said, almost dragging him back behind the police line. 'I hate to be the one to say it, but if your friend is in there he won't have survived twenty minutes. That smoke is beyond toxic.'

A pair of paramedics approached them, trying to assess if the young man had just been rescued from the building and needed their attention. The fireman seemed to push him in their direction. Even unhurt, this was clearly traumatic for the man and it seemed to be the safest place to put him, and protect himself from the sheer lunacy of his attempted entry into the burning building.

The paramedics wrapped an arm around his shoulder, gently guiding him over to their rig and asking questions that he wasn't in the mood for answering. He was coughing heavily from the smoke that now lined the streets for several blocks in each direction, and paramedics seemed keen to get him set up on an oxygen mask even if they could find nothing else wrong with him.

Ianto shrugged them both off, insisting he was fine, and began pacing frantically back and forth, watching as crews tried in vain to get the fire under control. They appeared to be fighting a losing battle.

He tried Jack's phone again and again. Still nothing, though it was unsurprising. The SUV was still parked nearby, confirming Jack hadn't gone anywhere else.

The police tried to usher him on amongst the other rubber neckers. Making a statement to them was pointless. What would he say? Yes, my immortal lover is trapped inside, probably burning to death, resurrecting himself and then burning to death all over again. Even in Cardiff where the police were accustomed to the slightly bizarre, this took the cake. If he wasn't arrested and shipped off to a rubber room for being crazy first. Some of the officers might even have taken sick pleasure in Jack's fate. Those that recognised them in any case. He'd certainly put more than a few of them offside over the years, and police had long memories.

Ianto went and sat in his car. For a while he just sat there shaking, then he sulked for a bit, then he cried, uncertain if it was from frustration or sadness, knowing that there was nothing he could do to help, and that Jack was either dead or in pain, neither of which he wanted to even think about. He sat there for hours, watching emergency services doing little but wait for the fire to burn itself out. Part of him was still waiting for Jack to make some grand entrance that would leave them all completely baffled by his apparent impervious exterior. It amused him for five minutes to think about that rather than to accept what was the more likely scenario.

He ignored the umpteen phone calls from Gwen, ignored her tapping on his car window, ignored her when she climbed into the passenger seat holding a takeaway coffee under his nose, ignored her as she sat there and tried to be supportive, and ignored her when she finally left hours later, asking him to call her if he had any news. He didn't even feel compelled to apologise for his apparent rudeness. He knew she cared about Jack, even loved him in her own way, but this was different.

Dusk fell, and then evening, though with the heavy smoky air it was difficult to tell the difference. The flames were now gone and the streets surrounding the factory were slick with water, gathering in large puddles on the uneven surface, mixing with oil and dirt and a dozen other kinds of muck. Fire crews wandered around wearily, packing up equipment. Their tired postures suggested it was less of a victory and more a battle conceded. Their media and press counterparts too had grown weary of reporting the incident. Once the six o'clock news was broadcast, there seemed little point else in hanging about for further developments, especially when there was no tabloid style excitement regarding the level of carnage and any loss of human life. It annoyed Ianto that Jack's fate didn't count on that front.

Ianto had once again left his car and approached the police barriers. Now that everyone was leaving there was a chance he could get in. Assuming Jack was alive, he might be stuck under rubble and unable to get out on his own. He hadn't given up entirely on the idea that Jack would be okay.

'Still here?' It was the chief firefighter from earlier. He looked slightly wary of the young man.

Ianto wasn't sure if he answered or not, still staring at the smouldering edifice.

'Did you find- anyone?' He had to stop and correct himself mid sentence, almost saying did you find anything, as in, did you find a body?

'It might look okay now, but everything inside is still red hot. I won't be able to send in structural engineers until tomorrow morning and even then I reckon it'll be too unsound. They'll knock it to the ground, for sure. Assuming it's even safe enough, otherwise we won't risk sending in search teams. I doubt they'd find anything. I'm really very sorry, but at those temperatures a human body will be completely incinerated, right down to the bones. Did you make a statement to the police?'

Ianto wasn't listening. He was suddenly filled with a horrible sickening doubt. Incinerated. Dear God. How could Jack come back if there was nothing left of his body?

He didn't remember getting back in his car, or eventually falling asleep where he was sat. He'd been sitting there in the dark for hours debating whether or not to tell Gwen, or even if he could bring himself to tell Gwen. Part of him refused to accept it, refused until he could see the proof for himself. At first light he decided he was going in, danger be damned. He had to know.

As a pale morning light began to break over the city, just as he was trying to clear his sleep fogged brain, his eye caught movement nearby. It was a dark shape and hard to tell but it looked vaguely human, even if it staggered more like a weevil on the prowl. Suddenly there was no doubt in Ianto's mind. It had to be Jack.

He lunged at the car door handle, stumbling and nearly falling over himself to get out, as his feet tried to move faster than the rest of him. He ran the last twenty yards towards Jack who was naked, blackened from head to toe in ash, and sporting several fresh cuts on his arms and torso.

Ianto slammed into him regardless, enveloping him in the tightest of hugs.

'Ianto Jones! Good to see you, too!' Jack exclaimed, just as soon as he could get the air back in his lungs.

'Are you okay?' It was always a stupid question to ask, but he asked it nonetheless. It was just something they always did.

'Never better. Not one of my best days at the office, mind you. Another phone that needs replacing, not to mention my coat. Sorry about that, by the way. Lucky my vortex manipulator is indestructible.'

'Doesn't matter,' Ianto replied, not quite ready to let go of Jack just yet.

'You weren't worried, were you?' Jack asked. It too was a redundant question. The fact that he'd ignored covering his suit in thick black ash and blood from the hug said it all.

'No, just wasn't ready to give up on you.'

Jack smiled. It was the closest he'd get to an honest admission, but it didn't matter.

'Let's go home.'


End file.
